


Slice of paradise

by Let_bijohns_be_bi_johns



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst Free Zone, Ficlet, Fix-It, Fluff, Happy, M/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9910568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Let_bijohns_be_bi_johns/pseuds/Let_bijohns_be_bi_johns
Summary: John let out soft huffs of air if he read something particularly humorous in the newspaper, the paper rustled as he readjusted it of turned the page.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so I wrote this just before s4e3 aired and posted it then too on my tumblr let-bijohns-be-bi-johns.tumblr.com so follow me there for new fics :)

The flat was silent aside from a few beakers clinking together and the quiet shuffle of Sherlock moving papers or adjusting his position.

The flat was always quiet when he was alone, it wasn't a fully comfortable silence. It was the kind of silence you get when there isn't anybody taking up the space.

When John got home, there would be the quiet shuffle of him toeing his shoes off and the soft crumpling noise as he hung his coat up. 

The kettle being flicked on, two cups clinking together as he retrieved them from the draining board. 

Tea bags, sugar and spoon in the cups. The sound of water being poured into the cups, on top of the tea bags. 

John's soft, socked foot steps on the vinyl to the fridge for the milk, his mindless hums as he made a mental note to buy more milk on his way home from work tomorrow.

Then a cup set down at Sherlock's side and John moving to sit in his chair to read the newspaper.

The silence in the flat with John there was entirely more bearable. The soft ticking of his watch, his steady breathing, the soft shuffle of his feet on the carpet when he moved them. 

They didn't need to speak to each other to fill up space, they were just comfortable to exist side by side.

John let out soft huffs of air if he read something particularly humorous in the newspaper, the paper rustled as he readjusted it of turned the page. 

Sherlock could swear he could hear the barely there sound of John licking his thumb before turning the pages.

The silence often ceased however by the telly being flicked on, or sherlock finishing his experiment and asking John if he wanted another cup of tea, followed on by casual conversation about each other's days.

The clink of cups being collected and rinsed under the tap, the kettle being flicked on again, grumbling to life as it dutifully boiled the water.

The conversation not stopping, simply said over the sound of the kettle. 

Sherlocks feet shuffling over the carpet as he delivered the cup of tea to John and the soft puff of air that escapes his chair when he sits down in it and the soft sigh that escapes Sherlock when he gets comfortable and takes the first sip of tea.

Sherlock enjoyed listening to John's horror stories from the clinic, in which staff were vomited on. He enjoyed listening to John because he was a great story teller, as his blog showed. But these were intimate stories where Sherlock could listen to him laugh and see his eyes crinkle in amusement. 

The time that they spent alone in their flat was calm and comfortable, no interruptions, no mad chases and arguments. 

Just them in their own little slice of paradise with each other.


End file.
